Taking the Wrong Vehicle to Escape

The Unconscious experiences the vulnerability of women in this dream.
The Dream: Three couples are sharing a vacation rental. One of the husbands is charming and well-regarded, a very popular guy who is the mayor of his town. His attractive Asian / Indian wife bustles about attending the needs of the family. I'm cleaning up in the kitchen. It soon becomes apparent to me that the man is a pedophile who molests young boys, and that his wife is complicit in covering this up.

I'm on my way to the shopping center in a white rental car, and the man gets in with me. He's all charm, as usual. We park in a large garage and walk toward the supermarket, crossing a large parking lot. He makes a pass, and when I resist he gets ugly. He shows me a small closet near the market with its own door and tells me he intends to rent it and use it to seduce young boys. He grabs me—he's very strong—and I know he's planning to rape me. I tell him, in all sincerity, that my husband will kill him, but he couldn't care less about my threats. I holler for people to call the police. One woman says,“What are you making such a fuss about?—just go along with it!”

My shouting distracts him, and I manage to escape. When I run back to the garage I have a new problem: I am unable to find the car.  I don't even remember what it looks like. I am very frightened that the man will find me. It occurs to me that if I press one of the buttons on the key chain it will cause the car to beep. Sure enough, it works; I find a car, a long black station wagon. The seat seems to be in the right position, so even though I'm not sure this is the right car I take off. I become more and more concerned that it isn't my car: I notice the rear view mirror is not correctly aligned.

As I drive on one of the ramps I notice, barely, a woman in a wheel chair in front of my car. Despite my best effort to stop I can't, and I hit her. I jump out of the car, apologizing profusely. Luckily she was not injured.

I wonder if the police will stop me for stealing the car. Would they believe my story?—probably not. When I was in the altercation with the man I realized that most likely no one would believe it, and he would get away with all his crimes.

I go to a place in the garage where there's an office; a superintendent of something or other sits at a desk. A young woman with dark hair, foreign looking with a tear-stained face, has just reported her car stolen. She is the owner of the car I've taken. Realizing this I apologize, again profusely, and feel I can clear this up for her. I'm relieved to be able to do the right thing.

Interpretation: Some horrific current events triggered this dream. In the news was a woman executed by the Taliban—her husband delivering the fatal blow. Her crime? She had been abducted and raped. A football player on my local team had been accused of sexual assault, and NPR featured a program on rape. “How would I deal with such a situation?” my unconscious asked.

In the dream I am acutely aware that I have no physical defense, and my attempted verbal defense is useless as well. I experience the awful feeling of being over-powered. Luckily, I mange to flee.

The dream made me aware of the age-old difficulty that women have had in being believed when they report sexual predation. I realize that it is more than likely that no one would listen to me, sympathize, or even believe me. With that dream experience I think I came close to what victims of sexual assault feel. The man's reputation was such that he would not be questioned or suspected. There have been many accounts in the news lately of trusted figures who got away with atrocities for years: a beloved BBC host, Catholic priests, golf coaches, others like Sandusky, and so on. In the dream the man's position helps him to cover up his crimes; his own wife is an enabler. Society's point of view is reflected in the woman in the parking lost who tells me to get over it.

I do escape, but in doing so I come very close to harming other women. My car, once white, is now black and hearse like. I drive into one woman in a wheelchair and steal another's car. The metaphor is that although in waking life I've managed to “escape” these horrors, by turning a blind eye I hurt other, vulnerable women. I apologize for this in the dream, and hope to make things right. In reality, I wonder, what can do?

The Goldilocks Dilemma

The Dream: Clark and I are looking at a house. I'm confused about the price: at first it seems a good buy, then later I realize it's not quite affordable. The kitchen has a lowered cooking and prepping area; I surmise this is for a wheel-chair user, and I think this might be why the place hasn't sold. I wonder if I could use it with a wheeled office chair, and if it might actually be nice to be able to sit down while I cook. A young boy with a very small body and a very large head comes in. I figure out that the low cooking station is for him. Then I notice another stove—but it's too high: I wouldn't be able to reach it. Finally I see a normal height gas range with about 6 burners. This kitchen can accommodate every size cook. I am relieved.

Interpretation: I am looking for a new way of being: the new home I'm searching for is a metaphor for my need to transform (move) my inner life. At first I think it will be easy for me (a good buy), but then doubt sets in: perhaps this change is too difficult, will cost me too much (it's not affordable). Kitchens in dreams represent areas where transformation takes place, and this particular kitchen presents me with choices similar to those faced by Goldilocks: one area is too low; another too high; finally I see one that is just right. Although my initial reaction was to try to accommodate myself to an area created for a much smaller person, a better choice is there, waiting for me. Why am I relieved that the kitchen can accommodate every size cook? Because the best part of the dream's message is that what's most comfortable for me doesn't require other parts of myself, the parts that feel too big or too little, to have no role in creating the total person.We can all cook together and, unlike Goldilocks, I won't have to run away.

Who Am I Driving?

The Dream: I'm driving Clark to work. There are lots of traffic problems and difficulties. After I drop him off I have to get to my own work, and I'm not sure how to get there from his office. I wonder why he didn't take his own car.

Interpretation: I need to involve myself in my own work, and not become too involved in the distraction of driving my husband to do his.

Guest Dreamer: The Flying Dinosaur

In this guest dream, Firequeen faces grief at the loss of her husband. Death appears as a swift raptor, a cheetah that cheats her of her beloved. The dream triggers a powerful transformation: By facing her pain in the dream, healing can begin.

Firequeen’s Dream: Weird dream last night. I was standing in my house with Wolfram, it was not this house but the room we were in was this one (office). We were standing at the window and we saw a flying dinosaur - about the size of a pelican - the name given me in the dream was velociraptor, but I just looked that up and it doesn't have wings. This had a big head and a very long sharp beak. Wolfram was intrigued with it and began making faces at it and waving his arms to annoy it (he was like that) and it turned and flew towards us. This did not make him give up. It flew straight at the window and its beak pierced the glass, making a hole. It made about three of these holes. Then it saw a small bird sitting on a bush and it speared the poor bird with its beak. Then it sat back on its haunches - it had turned into a cheetah-like creature and was holding the bird in its paws and had a grinning mouth full of teeth. It seemed able to change back and forth between these two creatures at will. I felt it was extremely dangerous and could get in the house through the holes it had made, so I persuaded Wolfram we should leave the room and shut the room door behind us.

Then we went to the door of the house and I saw the house was in a field with open space around. People were coming towards the house and I was supposed to have made food for them, but hadn't. Then Libby came and she was carrying trays of beautiful food and cakes, which she had made for us and the people. There was more but I only remember fragments - Adrian, a friend I haven't seen for a long time, was holding a pane of glass and saying he was going to repair the window.  I felt I had to warn all these people about the velociraptor, but I could not get them to listen. I kept lining them up outside the house and saying they had to listen to me before they went in. But they were too busy talking to each other. If any of them did listen, they dismissed it as imagination.

Firequeen’s afterthought: Some days afterwards, I was thinking about this dream, and how Wolfram is so often with me in dreams, and I felt sure that he is always there, even when I don’t know it, and then I received the message that this is so, and it is because we are now merged. We don’t have to wait until after my death. And maybe this was why he ‘wasn’t there’ on the holiday this year, when he had been so vividly present the year before - because he had been present in me.

Carla’s interpretation: The dreamer has shared some facts from her life that I take into account as I interpret her dream as if it were my own. I am standing in my house (my self) with my husband Wolfram, who in waking life died unexpectedly in 2006. We are in the office, which is the dream’s way of telling me that I have some work to do. The window I look through represents my view of things, and the creature that I see tells me what I need to work on. I see a dinosaur, which has mythic elements for me, reminding me of a fairytale dragon (something to be conquered), but this dinosaur is very particular—it’s a velociraptor, a word that literally means swift seizer.  My husband was swiftly seized by death, and the dream is helping me deal with my feelings around this tragedy. The dinosaur breaks the glass: my husband’s death has been a shattering experience. My soul (the bird) is held in this fearsome event, and I feel cheated (the Cheetah). I have tried not to look at this painful reality. (I persuade Wolfram we should leave the room and shut the door behind us.)

Yet having experienced the pain and fear of my loss in the dream space, I begin to heal. I go to the door (a threshold, the demarcation between one state and another), leaving the painful part of my inner world to enter the open space of a field. My world view is opening up. Because of my suffering I hadn’t been able to nourish my friendships (make food for my friends), but my friend Libby (the part of me that is now ready to interact and give to others) has provided enough for all. The Adrian part of me (a part that has been gone for a while) will repair my shattered heart (the glass pane “pain”).

My dream shows me how I have progressed through my grief, but also warns me not to forget the life lessons I have learned, even though there are parts of me that don’t want to know as well as people in waking life who refuse to accept the difficulty of dealing with death (the people who ignore my warnings about the swift seizer). As I can see from my thoughts a few days later, my spiritual beliefs were activated by the dream and console me with the realization that my love and I have merged: he lives on through me—in real time. Wolfram is not lost to me.

The Synthesis

Occasionally a dream echoes the structure of a myth, revealing where we are on our life journey. 

The Dream: I find my way to a mountain-top home, a castle-like structure overlooking the surrounding countryside, hilly terrain like the semiarid northern California coastal range. I’m in a turret, with windows on 3 sides. At first there are no other structures to be seen. Later I see what at first appears to be a brilliantly white spire topping some sort of temple rising above the hills. Then I see a very large building that obscures the temple; it looks like the scaffolding of a large office building but has a silvery, glowing quality that makes it difficult for me to figure out exactly what I’m seeing. I soon realize that my confusion was created by a cloud behind the scaffolding. It moves off to the left and the bare bones of a building under construction are revealed.

Back to me in the strange room: I’m in a room to the right of the turret. A crude ladder made of wooden slats, again like a framework or scaffolding, leads to the upper floors. I attempt the climb, initially unafraid, but when I get to a broken slat I recall that I’m afraid of heights, and I find I can’t go on. I back down the ladder.

I see a very gruff Russian man. He is stocky, a little paunchy, and has dark hair surrounding his bald pate. He appears to be a workman; he doesn’t speak. Yet it seems he has alerted the woman in charge, who scampers down the ladder. She is also Russian and approaches me accusingly, suspecting me of espionage. For some reason, when she demands to know my name, I give her the Russian version. Her manner at once changes; she’s gotten the idea that I am of royal lineage. She becomes pleasant, even sycophantic, and no longer wishes to bar me from the ascent. However, my own fear of heights prevents it.  I expect the workman to repair the broken slat, thinking that if here were to do so I could perhaps manage the still scary venture—but he makes no move in that direction.

I see that the gruff, bouncer-type man has a notebook. He has written a story about the woman and illustrated it. I am surprised at the sensitive and beautiful quality of his work; even though he’s left many drawings unfinished his talent is apparent. In some of his drawings the women are headless. “You are very talented,” I tell him. It’s a surprise in someone so apparently brutish. He is no longer mute, but very humble: “You are extremely talented,” he says to me. I wonder how he could possibly know that, since I have none of my work with me. We spend some more time, each of us trying to convince the other of his (her) talent.

Interpretation: My dream group helped me with this one. The dream represents a partial victory in the myth that represents my life, but also tells me I have work to do. My first challenge is getting to this difficult spot. I didn’t record the very earliest sequence of the dream, but it was about the steep path up to the strange castle. What do I see from this outlook? Is it a temple, or is it an office building. Do I pray here or do I work here? What I see from my three-windowed turret symbolizes my state of being, a mental space where work and spirit have melded.

My (spiritual) ascent is stopped by a ladder’s broken rung. The thing in need of repair centers on figures from my youth, the scary Russians who made up my family. My first task is to accept myself; I symbolically do this by owning my Russian identity, and this quickly disarms both of the threshold guardians. The woman changes from a hostile force to a benign one, and I realize the complexity of the man, who until now had seemed only brutish. The man symbolically tells me that the wellspring of creativity isn’t particularly genteel; it’s his earthiness and lack of pretension that gives art its life. The women he depicts are headless; his force is not of the intellect.

Ultimately it’s my own fear that stops me, not the physical limitation of the broken rung. The dream tells me that I mustn’t expect someone else to fix it.

A Bossy Woman

The Dream: A stout and bossy woman, in an office, is talking too loud. She is promoting some sort of “help” she pedals to groups. At first it sounds interesting, and I wonder if she might be a good speaker for a women’s group I belong to. I try--again and again--to ask if she would like to do this, but she won’t let me get a word in. Her over-loud voice is embarrassing, and her bossy manner and unwillingness to listen, annoying. Finally I just want her to go away. She exits to the left.

Interpretation: In my last posted dream it looked as though I were reconciling conflicting parts: the stay-at-home femininity of my youth with the woman-active-in-the-world of my adulthood. But just as I thought progress was being made a shadow figure emerges to let me know that I haven’t finished. And she wants to be heard! (She's very loud.) Jung says shadow figures contain parts of ourselves that we dislike and don’t want to acknowledge. I push this bossy, embarrassing creature back down into the unconscious (she exits to the left). Want to bet she’ll be back?

Only the Shadow Knows

Sometimes you just can’t get rid of those pesky imperfections.

The Dream: I am in an office building and a hobo is on a ladder outside the window. He puts out his hand, in a supplicating way, as if requesting money. He is unstable, and his ladder falls away from the window. I am glad, not bothering myself about his probable fate after falling from a considerable height. I am relieved to be rid of him. Moments later he is back.

Interpretation: This shadow figure, as Jung would call him, is appealing to me (he puts out his hand in supplication). I may reject him; I may think he’s dead and gone. But nope—he’ll be back until I give him what he wants: the acknowledgment that he is part of me.

Your Money or Your Life

Many who are interested in dreams are artists. If you are, I think you’ll find this dream relevant to the age-old artist’s conundrum: make art or make money.

The Dream: I go to an art supply outlet. It is an old-fashioned office in an industrial firm. The room is not at all glamorous, with beige file cabinets, clutter and a utilitarian wooden desk. Behind this desk sits a younger middle-aged woman (about 40). She is thick-set, has dark brown hair and wears horn-rimmed glasses. She is a little chubby, with a round face and in a very dull dark blue dress.

I give her a list of pigments and other art supplies that I would like to purchase. I realize I don’t have the money to pay for my supplies, which have amounted to $200.00. I ask if it is okay if I write her a check, and then ask my mother if the money is in the account: she might have to transfer some money.

I can see the woman is disapproving. She is wondering why I don’t earn my own money. I arrange that I will call her after I get my mother’s approval, and then she will send me the supplies. Since I have been a long-time customer I am annoyed that she didn’t trust me enough to let me take the art supplies home with me.

Interpretation: The short one: I’m not getting any credit! To elaborate: Some part of me is unsure if I have the right to color (the pigments). In this dream color represents an expressive outlet. My color is controlled by the rigid forces of practicality: industry, busy-ness, clutter (old unresolved stuff lying about). I can’t give myself any credit for the choice I’ve made or the work I do. As Oscar Wilde said, “All art is utterly useless.” I am dependent on my internalized “mother” for approval. Another part of me is disgusted with this dependence and thinks I should “earn my own money;” in other words, be my own source of affirmation.

My Mother’s Bureau

After a loved one dies the psyche works to create the right space for that person within us. In this dream I struggle with the difficulty of taking on the role my mother played in my life after her death.

The Dream: I am using my mother’s bureau, and I notice that one drawer is crammed with her things. I realize I haven’t left her enough room; she must squeeze most of her things into this one drawer. I feel I’ve been unkind.

Interpretation: The key to understanding this dream is making the connection between the words bureau (where one stores clothes) and office (where one works). The two are synonyms. I have taken over my mother’s office (work) and given her less space. This new role is still uncomfortable.